Da Capo al Fine
by Falkrem
Summary: Ryuuko wakes up after the final battle on a familiar couch. There's something she can't recognize, though... Mikiryu, post-series.
1. Forgotten Fugue

A/N: Happy April Fools' Day! I hope you enjoy this little 'story'. The title is supposed to be just 'D.C. al fine' but the New Story form doesn't like periods in titles.

* * *

A ceiling as blank as her mind. Thoughtlessness, panicky thoughtlessness as her heart raced in realization. She jolted up, head dizzy, her breathing fast and shallow. She clutched a faded white blanket in her right hand, a stark contrast to the red threads of the couch she was sitting on. Immediately, her memories came rushing back, a deluge of emotions.

"Senketsu," was all she could whisper, an unexpected pain piercing her heart. She closed her eyes, attempting to assuage it, letting out a slow, shuddering breath. As she did so, something wet slid down her cheeks, a stinging sensation. She brought up her left hand to wipe the tears away, but felt something small and metallic brush against her skin as she did so.

On the ring finger of her left hand was a silver band, glinting from the rays streaming through the glass of a pair of sliding doors across the room. An overwhelming unfamiliarity filled her once she looked around herself, gauging her surroundings. The couch was against a wall, perpendicular to the doors and facing a coffee table and a flat-screen TV. In the corner before her was a desk with stacks of documents and hardback books and in the other corner were two vertical filing cabinets. Directly behind her was a narrow foyer leading to the front door, opening to a hall on her left; she assumed that the hall hid what was left of the apartment: the bathroom and bedroom. Opposite the hall was a nearly enclosed kitchen made visible by an open window, through which she glimpsed several utilitarian appliances within. In front of the window was a small table for two. The entire place was littered with papers and books. Of all that she saw, she could only recognize the couch and ring–the latter vaguely. A gentle warmth made its way into her heart when she remembered the silver band; for some reason, she couldn't imagine being without it.

Instinctively, she pulled up the blanket to check on her attire. To her relief, she was in her favorite black-and-white jacket, a pale blouse and red ribbon beneath, and a dark skirt. Placed on the balcony outside were her white sneakers, stained with dirt. She slid her legs over the side of the couch, swaying as she stood up. Her body felt foreign and her movements, awkward. She stretched, the blanket sliding down her legs to her bare feet, the woman nearly falling onto a pile of books. It was as if gravity had made her lopsided, but she wouldn't let that deter her from waddling over to her sneakers, dragging the blanket with her.

At that moment, she felt an ache in her head, and she placed her right hand to her temple. Her mind in disarray, she opened the doors to be met by the din of the streets outside. As soon as her feet were securely in her shoes–the door, closed behind her–she muttered the next few names she could think of.

"Mako, Satsuki and–" She paused, her heart rate accelerating with the mention of his name.

"–Mikisugi."

She examined the ring, turning her hand to observe it. Clenching her left hand, she could feel its cold smoothness.

"Ryuuko?"

The woman jerked around to face the intruder, her dark hair swaying with the movement. The man, blue hair parted to one side, wore a cobalt-colored jacket with matching trousers, a crumpled, white button-up shirt and a dark pair of dress shoes. He stood beside the couch and in his arms was a large bag filled to the brim with various food products. The corner of his mouth quirked as soon as their blue eyes locked.

"Did you enjoy your beauty sleep?"

She ignored his teasing, getting straight to business.

"What happened?"

He raised an eyebrow, bag still in his arms.

"I come back after half an hour and you look as if you've seen a gho–"

"Hold on," she ordered, panic starting to settle in, "_half an hour?_ How long have I been out?"

Aikurou considered her question, setting the bag down on the couch. "You fell asleep around noon. I left to get groceries shortly after, so I'd say about an hour altogether."

She fiercely shook her head, wincing from the pain again.

"What are you _talking_ about? I meant after I fell from the sky. The Life Fibers–"

His amused smile fell as soon as she said this, but she paid it no mind, her attention on the terrible, terrible aching in her head.

"Ryuuko–" he began as he took a cautious step toward her, "–you aren't–?"

"And where did I get this ring, Mikisugi?" She gestured toward him with her left hand, taking a step back in response to his closeness. Aikurou let out a chuckle, giving her that same entertained smile.

"Don't tell me you've forgotten?"

"What happened and why do I have this ring?" she reiterated.

"You took a nap. I went and got groceries, then came back."

"I don't have time for your jokes!" She reared her right arm back, hand clenched.

"To be honest, I have no idea," he finally said.

"_About what happened or the ring?_"

"Both. This is the first time I've seen you since you saved us. And I've never seen that ring before." Then he tilted his head thoughtfully and added, "perhaps it gives you superpowers."

Ryuuko threw a punch in his direction, but he sidestepped it with ease, catching her by the arm and pulling her close enough for him to whisper into her ear.

"Or…maybe you're engaged?"

She blushed profusely–more from his proximity than the idea of marriage.

"Th-that's ridiculous! Someone must have put it on me while I was asleep! A prank!" Her heart pounded rapidly as she tore herself away from him and with all the courage she could muster, attempted taking the band off her finger–

"Wait."

He clasped both hands over her own, his seriousness returning.

"Don't take it off."

"Why not?" she asked, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.

Aikurou hesitated, then removed his hands and backed away from her.

"I…don't know."

His voice carried an uncertain edge to it, some underlying, unrecognizable emotion present in it.

"Whatever, weirdo," the woman told him, heeding his words regardless, "I'm going home!"

With that, she pushed past him to the world outside.

* * *

As soon as she reached the edge of the Mankanshoku lot, she stopped dead in her tracks. The place was desolate, the clinic nowhere to be found. She stood, rooted in shock, unable to proceed yet unwilling to go back–she wasn't going to endure Aikurou's teasing again. Tentatively, she turned to leave, her heart falling, her mind haywire; _where was her home and the people she loved?_

Trudging away from her former home in a daze, it wasn't long before she found herself beside a fruit vendor, the open crate of lemons bringing back her first meeting with her adoptive siblings. She let out a weak laugh, trying to figure out what to do now that she had no idea where her family or friends were–

Suddenly, she straightened her back, hope finally reaching her. The school! Certainly she'd be able to find them there!

Nearly running over anyone unfortunate enough to stand in her way, the woman was forced to a stop when she flew into a man twice her size. She backed away, holding her hands up in apology before realizing that the man she had 'bumped' into was none other than Ira Gamagoori. Behind the gigantic man, Ryuuko recognized his familiar athletic comrade.

"Matoi!" they nearly called out in unison. The green-haired man had a lazy posture; his blond-haired companion stood rigidly beside him, hands behind his back. They seemed to have been in an important discussion before her abrupt appearance. Envelopes were clutched in the laxer man's hand.

"Sanageyama, Gamagoori," she greeted them, unable to help the smile on her face, "what's up?"

"Simply attending to the Mankanshoku family's mail while they're away," Ira replied, hands behind his back. As if to emphasize his friend's words, Uzu waved the envelopes at her.

"'Away'?" Ryuuko wondered, confused.

"Yeah, they've gone out-of-town for a while, but they'll be back before Wednesday of next week," Uzu remarked. "But _you_ were too busy hanging out with Mikisugi the past few days," he continued, his voice suggestive, the other man staring at him reproachfully.

"Sanageyama!"

"You didn't even say goodbye to them," Uzu added, avoiding his friend's scowling. "Which reminds me," he said, switching to a topic that interested him, "how's Mikisugi been?" The woman's brow wrinkled in irritation.

"I'm glad to be rid of him," she responded, "he won't give me any straight answers."

"Huh? You angry with him or something? Normally you two are _inseparable_," the lazy man commented, grinning.

"'I-Inseparable'?! You've got to be kidding! I can't _stand_ that creep!"

Similar to Aikurou's reaction, the grin disappeared from Uzu's face as he exchanged uncomfortable looks with the stoic man.

"What's wrong?"

"Uh, Matoi, I think there's something you need to know–" The green-haired man was interrupted by his friend.

"We must meet with Lady Satsuki, Inumuta and Jakuzure at once!" Ira exclaimed, dragging Ryuuko by the arm to some unknown destination. Realizing the other man's intentions, Uzu briskly caught up and led the way, his friends struggling to keep up with his pace.

"Ow! Hey! Aren't you being a little invasive for a disciplinary head?!"

Ryuuko's vexed shouting fell on deaf ears, the two men walking without so much as giving the woman a glance.

In another part of town, Aikurou was absentmindedly playing with one of his cuffs, examining photographs laid out on his table in crooked rows of five. He had cleared the table of several stacks of books and papers earlier, merely moving them aside without organization. The bag of food sat beside him on the couch, forgotten.

Most of the photos had something in common: a blue-haired man and a dark-haired woman, strands of red in the woman's hair. Both were smiling, content in whatever activities they were engaged in: having a splashing war at the pool, throwing snowballs on a freezing day, watching fireworks during a cruise. Other photos were simple stills of one or the other with various expressions filled with surprise, mischief, radiance.

His fingers settled on a particular picture, worn from having been creased into fourths over and over. In it, the man and woman were holding hands, the former pointing toward the camera in an attempt at getting the woman's attention while she was laughing. He could remember that day clearly: busy, bustling crowds as they walked downtown, unfinished ice cream cones in their hands. They had stopped by a playground afterward, chasing each other until they were breathless, adorning each other with jasmines until the sun set.

"I didn't think you'd disappear so soon," he whispered, heart clenching. With one swift motion, he swept the photographs into a messy pile, straightening the stack until he could hold all of those memories in one hand. Aikurou refolded the creased photograph, tucking it into the inner pocket of his suit's jacket. He exhaled steadily, eyes closed in concentration, steeling himself for what was to come.

_She mustn't find out._

Opening his eyes, he stood up and held the photos in his hand. Hurriedly, he walked out of the apartment, wanting with every fiber of his being to finish this; otherwise, he'd never be able to let go, clinging to something–no, _someone_ who never existed. Finding himself beside a moldy dumpster in a nearby alley, he took out his lighter, flicked it on and held out the photographs above the flame. He watched it consume them, the memories disappearing as quickly as they were made.

"Goodbye, Ryuuko."


	2. Realistic Requiem

A/N: I should just update this story every April Fool's until you guys get the joke.

* * *

"The past two years have been lonesome without you."

Ryuuko's incredulous stare was fixed on her older sister, mouth slightly agape and eyebrows raised, as she sat before her in a three-star district restaurant far from the grime and crime of Blind Alley. Satsuki's dark hair was in a short ponytail, her hands clasped together on the immaculate ivory-colored cloth cloaking the large, round table between the sisters. Her blouse was as perfect as the cloth yet paler, her crossed legs covered by the long, sea foam green skirt she wore. After a few seconds of silence, Ryuuko spoke.

"Alright, three things. First," the younger sister began, one finger raised, "I didn't get a word you said."

"Understandable," Satsuki replied, motionless even when a waiter stopped by to refill her glass.

"Second," the other woman continued, glancing around herself at the restaurant's high-end diners, "do _I_ need to be here?"

Before her older sibling could open her mouth, Ryuuko went on.

"Third," she said, that same incredulous look on her face, "do _they_ need to be here?" the younger woman gestured with both hands at the Elite Four members seated with them at the table.

Uzu was tilting his chair back as he sat in it, hands behind his head, ignoring the cautious stares of nearby diners. Ira was giving him stern looks, warning him against doing anything that could make those in their party seem like fools. An uninterested Nonon had one elbow on the table, propping up her chin with her hand and distracting herself with the gleam of a spotless fork. Houka was making fluid motions in the air with his finger, translucent screens appearing then vanishing with swift swipes.

"As Lady Satsuki's closest allies, it is our duty to accompany her when she wishes," Ira stated, Ryuuko letting out a sigh as she placed both hands on her temple.

"If it really _has_ been two years, there isn't any need for the 'Elite Four' now that Life Fibers are gone, is there?"

"Even if we're no longer the 'Elite Four' by name, we are still Satsuki's companions–regardless of the existence of Life Fibers," Houka told her, eyes fixed on his screens.

"Alright, but…shouldn't we have moved on with our lives already?"

"You're missing the point, Matoi," Uzu said, sitting forward, "we _have_ moved on. _You're_the only one lagging behind."

"We'll gladly explain it to you again, sister," her sibling firmly replied, the weary expressions on the faces of her 'friends' indicating their reluctance in doing so. Ignoring her company, Ryuuko inhaled deeply, closing her eyes to gather her thoughts. Surely they were playing a joke on her? Yet if the world _had_ moved on without her, she had a lot to catch up on.

"So let me get this straight," she began, using her hand to emphasize each item on her list, "I fell from space, lost my memories, gained a different personality, stopped Hououmaru from killing us all, moved to another town to attend my last year of high school, then ended up…at Mikisugi's place?"

"That is correct," Satsuki affirmed, nodding with the rest of the table.

"That damn liar!" the other woman muttered to herself, then refocused her attention on the group. "Why exactly was I there…_if I live in a completely different town?_"

"You were merely visiting," her sister replied.

"Bull. I wouldn't be caught _dead_ 'visiting' that guy." _Much less sleep on his couch while he got groceries_, she nearly told them, but kept that bit of information to herself.

"–unless you developed a relationship with him," Houka carefully stated, the woman giving him a suspicious stare. The others shot wary looks at him, but he paid them no mind.

"What _kind_ of relationship?"

"We'll leave that up to your imagination," the blue-haired man replied.

"I don't _want_ to imagine!"

"So, what? You want us to serve you the answer on a silver platter?" Uzu asked, putting his chin on clasped hands, both elbows on the table.

"Yes! That is _exactly_ what I want! I want to know what happened during that time! I want–

Her voice became quiet, her friends straining to hear.

"–I want those years back."

"It's still possible." Houka's voice interrupted the woman from her dejected thoughts. "You could regain those memories–the ones during your amnesia–if you had something your 'other self' held dear."

"Like this ring?" Ryuuko held up her hand, the band shining in the same way as Nonon's fork.

A sudden silence fell over the table. Her gaze panned across the faces surrounding the table, her suspicion returning.

"Why do I have this ring, Satsuki?"

"I don't know," her sister responded, her straight-faced demeanor contrasting with the nervous looks being shared across the table. Ryuuko narrowed her eyes at her sibling.

"You know exactly where this ring came from, and I'll cross the deepest chasms of Hell to find out."

At that moment, Nonon's eyes met with Houka's, a brief yet silent agreement between them.

"How stubborn," the pink-haired woman complained, examining the fork again, "I bet she doesn't even want to see the pictures he took during that time."

Immediately, this caught Ryuuko's attention.

"Pictures? 'He'?"

"Yes. Mikisugi took some photos while you were 'out'," Houka added, "I'm sure he still has them."

"Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no. Mikisugi did _what?!_" This time, she could care less about the surprised gawking of the restaurant's diners.

"C'mon, it's not as if they were _lewd_ or anything," Uzu told her, but the woman was too preoccupied with thinking of the best way to murder the blue-haired pervert.

"Are you kidding?! He'd strip me every time I got beat up! Thanks to you guys always making me lose blood, Mikisugi's seen more of my body than I'd care to show anyone–even Mako!" She ignored the strange looks being thrown her way.

"We're aware of that, Matoi," Ira informed her, leaning forward, "and frankly, that kind of behavior from a grown man–"

"Gamagoori," Satsuki cut in, the gigantic man quickly stating, "my apologies, Lady Satsuki" before resigning himself to his seat.

"Wait, wait. You _let _him do that to me?!" Ryuuko's voice was nearly shrill at this point.

"Ryuu–" Her sister opened her mouth to speak but it was already too late, as the other woman had stormed out of the restaurant in fury.

"Screw everyone!"

* * *

"Ryuuko, I didn't expect–"

The dark-haired woman marched into his apartment, thrusting a finger in his direction, her brow twitching. The man stepped aside, allowing her to plop down on his couch with a huff, her arms crossed. Her scowl didn't faze him and he simply leaned against the wall to the right of the sliding doors, placing a thoughtful fist to his chin, his other hand supporting his elbow.

"Where are the damn photos?!"

"I'm sorry?" His feigned confusion didn't fool her.

"The photos! The ones you took during my amnesia! Give them to me!" she nearly snarled, ready to pummel the man into the ground. A low growl resounded at the back of her throat, an indication that her patience was running thin. Then, the corner of Aikurou's mouth curved into a sly smirk, the man relenting to her determination.

"Ah, so you finally found out, did you?"

"Of course I did! Now tell me where they are!"

He tilted his head as if he couldn't recall their location, the woman through with his stalling. She hopped up and stomped over to him, one hand balled into a fist by her side.

"Why are you so intent on getting those photographs? Don't tell me you're afraid of blackmail?"

Teeth gritted, she seized him by the collar. Ryuuko ignored the hands that lightly gripped her wrists in response.

"I knew they were sketchy! You better hand them over or I'll–"

"I burned them."

His voice was unwavering and low, and she loosened her hold in surprise. They stood there, the man gently grasping her wrists, the woman no longer violently clutching his collar. Her blue eyes locked with his and Ryuuko averted her gaze, contemptuous. Their stillness didn't last long, however–she tightened her grip again and pushed him further against the wall until she was able to inhale a sweet scent unlike any she'd experienced.

"You _what_?"

"I don't have them anymore," he stated, "because I burned them."

She released him and took a step back. Ryuuko never broke her gaze with him.

"Hmph! Trying to hide the evidence, huh?"

A tired, melancholic look appeared on his face–an expression the woman hadn't witnessed before.

"Perhaps," he whispered–more to himself than the woman before him–and his eyes darted away for a millisecond. Then, remembering her presence, he returned his attention to her and said with a smirk, "I suppose this means you'll never get those years back. Even if they may have been sketchy."

Annoyed, Ryuuko turned on her heel to leave.

"You're going to regret this, old man," she retorted, stalking out of the place.

As soon as she was out of sight, the man exhaled slowly.

"Of course, neither will I."

* * *

Ryuuko peered around the corner of the alley, fidgeting when she saw the man exit his apartment, hands in the pockets of his jacket. As soon as he had vanished, the woman darted out from her hiding place and toward his apartment, the night sky and shadows shielding her movements. Upon reaching the door, she realized that she had no way of entering his apartment. It wasn't as if she could kick the door down; that would be too conspicuous.

Disgruntled and at a loss for what to do, the woman turned the knob, expecting it to be locked. To her surprise, it wasn't, and the door opened with ease. She stepped out of the foyer and into the living room, ready to fend off burglars–despite being a trespasser herself.

She found a dim room, moonlight streaming through the doors and illuminating a small square of the table. Hesitantly, she crept into the room, careful not to topple any of the piles of books surrounding the table. For a few minutes, she simply stood beside his couch, unsure of where to begin. She looked around herself, wondering if the photographs were hidden among the documents cluttering the place and whether she was too oblivious to have noticed them earlier. Her eyes landed on the desk, stacks of papers nearly reaching the ceiling.

Hurriedly, she opened the topmost drawer, glancing at the various items: ballpoint pens, Post-it notes, paperclips, a stapler and–

"A ring," she murmured, transfixed. She picked it up, feeling its coolness against her skin.

"It's not nice to go through other people's things."

Ryuuko whipped around, the blue-haired man leaning against the wall closest to the curtain. He had on that same observant stance, hand to his chin.

"When did you get here?!"

"You didn't actually think I'd leave the door open for anyone to come waltzing in, did you?"

She narrowed her eyes at him, knowing she had underestimated the man. The woman flung the other silver band at him, the man catching it without flinching.

"Where did my ring come from and why do you have one that looks exactly like it?" She wrinkled her nose in disgust upon entertaining the thought of being engaged to Aikurou.

_There's no way–_

"Did you propose to me?" She did her best to keep her voice level, a strange lump forming in her throat.

The man calmly watched her as the question hung in the air between them. After several seconds of silence, she spoke, impatience and irritation in her voice.

"Well?"

He let out a single, derisive laugh, shifting slightly and looking away for a moment. When his gaze returned to her, she saw that his smile didn't reach his eyes.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing. It's just–" he began and paused, gauging her reaction, "you sounded so _hopeful_–"

That did it.

Done with his arrogance, she shoved him out of her way and stormed out of the apartment for the second time that day.

"Narcissist!"


	3. Summer Sinfonietta

A/N: What a stalker. According to my WordPress site, I finished this story in December of 2015. Because I'm a jacka-er, _witty_ person, I decided to upload each new chapter (except Chapter 2) on April Fool's day until you guys got the joke that I reeeaaally don't like this story. As such, the next chapter that I upload will be the last.

* * *

Her eyelids fluttered open, light flooding into the room from the cracked window to her right. She laid on her back, futon beneath and blanket above her, her hair in disarray from restlessness the previous night. Tossing and turning in a house devoid of company–his words racing through her mind. Uzu and Ira had escorted the young woman to a home she felt was no longer hers, Ryuuko having nearly fallen asleep by the time their ride had stopped in the neighboring town. She had passed out on her futon as soon as she had laid it out in the empty and eerily silent living room.

_"You sounded so **HOPEFUL**–"_

Raising a still sleep-ridden hand to the sunlight, she examined the ring's silver shine, that familiar yet unknown warmth filling her once more. With great effort, Ryuuko heaved herself up and into a sitting position, then glanced at the dirt-covered alarm clock on the broken shelf before her. 2:03, it read.

_'Hopeful', my ass!_

Groggy and annoyed, the woman placed a hand to her temple as if it would help her mental pain. With one hand, she pushed herself out of her sitting position and stood, wobbly, in the center of a living room she faintly remembered. Sliding open the door, she was met by a vase of calla lilies on the counter of the kitchen; without thinking, she reached for a leaf to feel its smooth yet natural texture between her fingers. The flowers were already starting to wilt, their lives having lost meaning.

Her eyes traveled down the stem to a small note card on the rim of the vase. Gently, she picked it up and, noticing that it was from Aikurou, wondered if she should remove all traces of him from her house and mind.

_I'll just…leave them be, for now._

She returned the card to its place, taking note of the date: three days earlier, before she had regained her self.

"Who would want to marry that pervert, anyways," she murmured, her heart aching for some unfathomable reason. As if to distract herself, her feet brought her to the closet, where she reached for her usual attire. Once she had changed, she followed her mechanical legs out the front door, trudging past unrecognizable houses. She didn't bother greeting the neighbors who had given her curious stares, didn't care about the loud and busy streets that increased in volume the closer she was to her destination.

Ryuuko found herself sitting on a swing in an abandoned playground, hollowness and hunger her only company. She was beginning to settle into a slow rhythm of gentle swinging–when crunching gravel soon alerted her of another presence:

Aikurou Mikisugi.

Eyebrows furrowed, she made a move to get up; _why did the one person she least wanted to see have to be in her vicinity at the wrong times?_

_Every second of my life is a wrong time for this pervert to be near me._

**I WISH HE'D LEAVE ME ALONE.**

He held out a hand to stop her, his other hand in the pocket of his pants.

"Sanageyama and Gamagoori said–" The words barely left his mouth before the woman brushed past him, her desire to get away from him as strong as his desire to make her stay. He placed a hand on her arm and she reared around to face him, a feral glare on her face.

"Leave me alone, creep!" His grip tight, she could tell he wasn't going to release her at her whim.

"Ryuuko, I want to apol–"

"Shut up! Just shut up and go away!" Her voice was rising, louder and louder, almost overpowering the honking cars and screeching tires in the distance. She struggled against his grip, her other arm ready to punch the man–

–when a folded photograph fell out of his jacket's inner pocket.

"I knew you were hiding them from me! Liar!"

Her hand darted out to snatch it–but his hand met hers and they held the photo between them, the woman fiercely holding on while the man attempted relinquishing it from her grasp. Seeing a dark-haired woman with a blue-haired man in the picture, her heart stopped and her eyes grew almost as wide as his.

Ryuuko yanked her arm away, still clutching one end of the photograph, and a sudden rip was heard.

She tried swallowing the unrelenting lump in her throat, but her heart was beating furiously, threatening to choke her. The world swayed before her and she threw her end of the picture at him, dashing off without another word.

Aikurou simply stared at the broken photograph he held in his shaking hand.

* * *

The woman placed both hands on her knees, huffing as she leaned on the glass of the display window of a wedding boutique. Her stomach growled, reminding her of her hunger, and she cursed herself for neglecting nearly an entire day's worth of meals–the sun was starting to set and the crowds were dying down as the city prepared for the night life that would soon emerge. She limped over to a restaurant, grateful for the few bills that she had fished out of the pocket of her pants.

"Didn't expect to find you here, Ryuuko."

A familiar, deep voice from behind her caused the woman to whip around, temporarily forgetting her grumbling stomach.

"Tsumugu," she greeted, her heart lifting upon seeing the dark-haired man. "I was just about to grab a bite–" she started to say, but was cut off by the muscular man.

"I saw Aikurou earlier."

At the mention of the blue-haired man's name, Ryuuko grimaced. Tsumugu continued, ignoring her reaction.

"He looked as if his dog had died."

She made an attempt at cluelessness, forcing the memory to the back of her mind.

"He has a dog?"

"No," the man brusquely–and humorlessly–replied. "Did you two have a fight?"

Bile rose in her throat and she forced it back down. Why did she have to explain everything over and over? Her heart clenched, the ring taking on an abrupt weight.

_I should just wear a label on my forehead with the words, 'Hello, I'm a recovering amnesiac' written on it_, she cynically thought, her urge to remove the ring becoming stronger.

"No," she stated, her words as empty as her stomach. "I just…want some time to myself." It wasn't far from the truth, but it wasn't very close. She wanted the comfort of her vanished family, wanted the support of friends that knew who she once was.

She _didn't_ want anything to do with Aikurou Mikisugi.

"I…the photo…" she absentmindedly whispered, the man catching her words.

"Photo?" Suddenly, she turned to leave, her mechanical legs leading her away from her old friend and toward the safety of a restaurant where she could think to herself. Like Aikurou, the dark-haired man grabbed her by the arm to prevent her from leaving and she tore herself away from him, anger emanating from her voice and body.

"What happened between you and Aikurou?"

"Why are you so interested? It's none of your business!" Her voice was shrill–similar to her meeting with her sister–and began garnering attention from passerby. He let go, a pained expression on his face.

"No, you can't–my sister–" He placed a hand to his temple like she had done and she turned around again, running away from the distracted man. Tsumugu's words left her mind as quickly as she had left him.

Yet, for some reason, she was before the door to Aikurou's apartment once she regained control of her mind and body. Ryuuko knew her answers rested within the blue-haired man–all she had to do was force them out of him.

_And then what?_

_What am I supposed to do with those answers?_

_What am I–what am I supposed to do with myself?_

The woman gave the door a push, wondering if the man left it unlocked as he had the previous night–as if he was expecting her. However, the door didn't budge. She raised one hand to knock but the will to face him was starting to leave her. Just as the woman lightly tapped the door, it opened to reveal the man frozen mid-step with a set of keys in his hand.

"Ryuuko," he stated in surprise. His surprise did nothing to remove the scowl from her face. The sorrow in his eyes was soon replaced by a blank mask–but she caught it and opened her mouth to speak. The curve of a smile appeared on his lips.

"Did you come here to ask for my hand in marriage?"

"Shut up!" She shook her head vigorously, as if the action would deny her suspicions. When she spoke again, her voice was softer than she had hoped.

"…The ring, the flowers, the photo… Is it true? About–"

She could see the man's shoulders slump slightly. The look of resignation he gave her finally showed his true emotions.

"…I–" It was quiet, ghost-like. A fractured heart in a fractured man in a fractured world. She took his agonized tone as confirmation.

"Why would you do something like that, knowing I'd regain my memories eventually?"

His voice was faint, a memory of a time she had heard the same emotion during the period she had lost herself. She couldn't pinpoint when that time was, but knew she had hurt him before. Ryuuko felt as if she had broken a promise; remorse filled her for reasons unknown–yet she couldn't possibly believe that she returned his sorrow.

"I never thought I'd fall in love with y–her."

A pang of pain shot through her heart. It was powerful–and almost indecipherable.

"'Her'? The other me?" Her body readied itself to leave, to rush off, to escape this tired, tired man.

"Her smile lit up the room, brightened my day with its beautiful radiance. I–I wanted to keep it…forever."

"I don't want to hear your damn poetry. Are you saying you'd prefer if she was here instead of me?"

On his mouth formed a false smile, bitterness and suffering.

"If I said 'yes', what would you do?"

Ryuuko gritted her teeth, her hands clenched into fists.

"You don't need to say anything–because I already know what you'd say," she told him, stepping away from him. With each step, she could feel her heart ripping itself apart at the seams. The woman couldn't understand why.

"I loved you, Ryuuko Matoi," he whispered, but she was gone, leaving the man to himself.

In pain from both hunger and sorrow, she reached her unfamiliar home once more, her mind set on food instead of her last words to him. Seeing the vase on the counter, she wildly grabbed it and–without thinking–smashed it against the wooden floor. She stood, breathing heavily, as she stared down at shattered glass that showed the distorted reflection of a teary-eyed woman who didn't know where her place in the world or what her purpose was.

Ryuuko picked each shard of glass up, trembling hands unable to tell physical pain from emotional anguish.

_What makes her so special?_

_Why do I feel so empty, knowing his heart belongs to someone else…_

_Someone who doesn't even exist…_

A shard fell through her fingers, staining them with red.


End file.
